


Little Bear

by Little Whispers (jw84)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angry Ron Weasley, Arguments, Canon Divergence - Post-Hogwarts, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Freedom, Friendship, Healing, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Personal Growth, Romance, not Ron bashing though, talking things through
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:27:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27175195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jw84/pseuds/Little%20Whispers
Summary: How do you pick yourself up, dust yourself off and start to move forward after your world crumbles to dust around you? The war might be over, but do the battles ever end? With friend’s dead, relationships fractured and her parents across the world and their memories gone, Hermione doesn’t even know what her dreams for the future look like anymore.A story where time, reflection and love help the world find colour again.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	Little Bear

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooo…. I’ve been on the Dramione ship for 2 years and have been tossing up for a while now as to whether or not I have a crack at writing my own fic – keeping in mind I am not a writer and this would be my very first-time putting pen to paper…
> 
> I have a very (read extremely) loose idea in my head for a post war fic that deals with the aftermath of the war, and the struggles of everyone picking themselves up and re-building their lives from the rubble. Some relationships fracture, some flourish, some come full circle, but ultimately this is a HEA fic for almost everyone, because frankly the world has enough misery right now.
> 
> It starts in the immediate aftermath of the battle and then after setting everything up we’d jump forward a bit where it would then, in part, be set in Australia following Hermione’s attempt to restore her parent’s memories. It’s here that Draco reappears in her life, after a secret friendship formed between them in 6th year, before the world went to hell. 
> 
> While set in the Harry potter and magical universe I’d like to keep it sort of parallel to real life where possible, as I’m a bit over the extreme exaggeration of wizarding world laws, love triangles and ridiculous over the top drama. 
> 
> Below, you will find a bit of a smash up of what would be in the first 2-3 chapters If I were to proceed, and I would love your honest feedback as to if the initial plot, and my writing style connects with you, and if anyone would be interested in me bringing this thing to life.
> 
> If this is something worth pursuing it might take me a little while to get it posted, I’d rather have it mostly written first, because as a reader, my biggest frustration/struggle is staying engaged with a story when updates are few and far between.
> 
> Anyhow, thanks for your time in reading, and without further ado…

**2 May 1988**

You could have heard a pin drop in that moment.

An unnerving stillness fell upon the courtyard as breaths were held and bodies froze to their spot as the flashes of red and green collided and faded into the night.

It. Was. Over.

For several heartbeats no one dared move for fear it wasn’t real… a second passed and then another, finally the shock lifted and a cacophony or noise leapt from the side of light. Cheers. Wailing. Laughter. Tears. He had done it, Harry had won, Voldemort was no more.

Hermione’s brown eyes frantically searched the courtyard for grey. She found him. For the briefest of moments their eyes met. Beside her, Ron jumped up and down, threw his arms around her and spun her off her feet and in a circle. When she looked up again his grey eyes were gone.

The rest of the night was a blur of treating the injured, recovering the dead and holding tight to those who survived. It was several hours later with an aching heart and weary bones, that she finally slid down the cold stone walls of the castle to the floor and realised what a hollow triumph it was.

Looking around at those who survived, a lone tear rolled down her dusty cheek as her mind turned to those they had lost. She knew it wouldn’t be long before the bruises of war surfaced and the real battles would begin.

**5 May 1998 – 3 days post-battle**

Cold.

Everything was cold. The air in his lungs, the blood in his veins, the iron grip of fear around his heart. His cell. His future. His hope. Everything was cold.

Unseeing and tired eyes stared straight ahead at the cold grey bricks of his cell wall. The room was as lifeless as he felt. He knew from the beginning there was no coming out of this in one piece. He never even expected to see the end - expected to be lying face down in the dirt somewhere heart still, lungs no longer breathing. The one tiny sliver of peace he held onto was that she was alive. Broken, but still breathing.

He curled in on himself, forehead pressed to knees as his back slid sideways against the wall until he was lying on his cot in the foetal position.

The guard roughly open the bean slot in his cell door tossing through his dinner. “Something special for your birthday you filthy nerk. Looks like you got exactly what you deserved this year hmmm?”

Draco listened as the guard’s feral laugh faded down the hall before he crawled towards the slop they called food. Taking a few cold mouthfuls of the grits before he pushed it away. He had barely slept since the battle, and didn’t even realise it was his birthday. Not that it mattered.

His fingers reached into his hair and withdrew the tiny pin hidden amongst his matted locks. Eye’s blurred with tears he looked down at the clip now in the palm of his hand. He let out a shuddering breath and curled his fingers around it into a fist bringing it to his heart.

Once more in a ball on his cot, he begged for sleep to take him so he could see her once more. He prayed for one night of peace, one night to not pass from the nightmare of reality to the nightmares of his dreams.

**1 week post-battle**

Harry placed a gentle hand on the small of her back as she made her way through the gate and up the paved path to the entrance. The repelling charm she had placed on the house over 12 months ago had all but made her childhood home invisible to the muggle world. No longer how she had left it, the garden was overgrown with weeds and a film of dust had settled on the front porch – a reminder of the lack of life beyond the front door.

She had no idea what would be waiting inside for her. While they had been on the run, she had not allowed herself the time to think about what she would do when it was all over. She couldn’t, it was too painful and a distraction from their mission. Now she was here she needed answers, although she didn’t know what would be worse - to find evidence of the Death Eaters having been there, of for it to have been untouched and safe the whole time, rendering the most difficult and heartbreaking decision of her life all for nothing.

Her chest tightened as she reached out to turn the handle. Sensing her hesitance Harry grabbed for her free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “We don’t have to do this today if you’re not ready you know…” he spoke gently. “We’ve barely had a chance to breath yet, you don’t have to rush this.”

When she had asked Ron to come with her he had refused, and told her ‘he had his own grief to deal with’. She knew he was hurting but in the four days since the battle had ended, he had barely looked at her, barely spoken to Harry and retreated into himself refusing to acknowledge anybody else’s loss. He’d screamed at Molly, threw a chair and George and locked himself in his room. Thank merlin for Harry because she knew she could not have come here on her own.

The stale air hit her lungs as she made her way down the entrance hall. Although empty, every single place her eyes fell to held a memory of time spent here with her parents. It was overwhelming being back, this wasn’t just a house - it was her home, her tether to her parents and the muggle world, this was where her life started.

Rounding the corner, she fell on her knees sinking to the floor of her parents loungeroom. She bit down a sob at the sight before her, the room had been violently destroyed, and what looked to be knife marks, slashed across the wall scrawled out the same foul word that imprinted her arm. MUDBLOOD.

She had her answer.

If she had not obliviated her parents and sent them away this was where their lives would have ended.

**5 weeks post-battle**

14 days… 4 healers… dozens of attempts… zero results. Night after night of surreptitiously entering her parent’s house and minds as they slept. The healers finally had to sit Hermione down to tell her there was nothing more to do, nothing more to try – there were simply no more options. The memories were gone with no way to restore them. The Chief Healer rose from his desk and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze on the way past. “Take as long as you need” he said kindly before he left the room.

…………

She sat on the park bench and watched them one last time. Her parents looked happy as they spread out their picnic under the cool shade of a fig tree. Their eye’s sparkling with mirth when her mother shared a sausage with their small, fluffy white dog, who enthusiastically wiggled his behind as he jumped about their feet. They had a dog. Not a daughter. A dog. And they were happy.

As she finally turned away, her mother’s laugh bounced across the wind – echoes of a past life that now lived only in her memory. A burning rose in her eyes, as tears clung to her lashes and grief ripped at her heart. Images of what was flashed in her mind, while dreams of what could be again slowly slipped between her fingers like sand and out of her grasp. A cold and sorrowful ache slinked around her chest as she struggled to breath. It was in this moment that all hope was lost, and the truth of reality etched itself into stone... She was alone and it was her own doing. Her parents - her family - were gone. Never to return.

**6 weeks post-battle**

After two weeks at the Burrow Harry and Hermione decided it was best to return to Grimmald Place.  
While Molly had begged them to stay, saying ‘she needed her family together right now’, each day that passed seemed to be fraught with more tension. One evening after yet another blow-up between Ron and Percy - which spilled over to Ron screaming at Harry when he tried to keep the peace - they packed their things, quietly said their goodbyes and left. Best to leave before words were said that could not be taken back.

Hermione glanced at the clock on the bedside and groaned. It wasn’t even 5am. On the night of the battle, once her head found her pillow, she slept. She slept like the dead, until after noon the following day. In the time since, not a night had passes where she had not woken screaming, sweating, shaking and in tears.

She was not alone in this as down the hall, Harry would cry out each night as well. Some nights when it got too much for the both of them one would make their way into the others room, not unlike all those months ago in the Forest of Dean, they would simply lay next to each other, hands held in the dark staring at the ceiling. Each other’s presence and the quiet rise and fall of their breathing a reminder that they were in fact still alive. Last night was one of those nights. She had been staring at the ceiling for the last hour, thoughts of grey eyes and white-blonde hair making her restless. Bone weary she let out a sigh. Harry rolled to face her in the dark and pulled her in for a hug.

She threw her arm over his hip and shoved her face into his chest. “We’re all so broken Harry. How do we…When will the past stop following us into our dreams? When can we breathe again without it hurting? HOW do we move through this, past this?”

“I don’t know…maybe…when…” his words hung in the air “I really don’t know Hermione. What I do know is if we keep a hold of those we love and put one foot in front of the other that’s all anyone can ask of us right now. We keep each other afloat and hopefully as some point we will look back and see just how far each of those steps has taken us and the pain won’t be so fresh and our lives a tiny bit brighter”.

She grimaced into the dark “Well with that in mind I think we should try and talk to Ron again today, and I want to check on George too”.

Harry sighed and placed a kiss on her temple before stretching out his arms and legs “We should definitely do that, but I think we need a plan of attack, and I’m not even going to consider that without a coffee”.

“Or two” she said as she swung her legs off the side of the bed “and I’m sure as hell not going to get any more sleep now so I may as well put the kettle on”.

As they made their way down stairs to the kitchen she wondered to herself how many other people were already up and doing the same thing, unable to escape their nightmares.

Two hours and a coffee and tea later Hermione opened the window as an owl flew in and dropped the days edition of the Prophet.

…………

Hermione’s mood about matched the weather. Gloomy and grey. She had been curled up on her favourite window seat for the past two hours restlessly alternating between staring blankly down to the street below and flipping through the pages of the Prophet.

Every day since the death eater trials had started the paper was filled with articles following the proceedings and digging deep into the lives of those on trial. With so many death eaters in custody the Wizengamot would be almost permanently in session for several months to come. Reading through the schedule of hearings her heart sunk a little when she saw Draco’s was scheduled for next month.

The knot in the pit of her stomach grew larger. It just wasn’t right. For all his faults he did not deserve this. She knew he had been an unwilling participant in this nightmare. He was a child, with an arm twisted up his back and wand to his head because of his father and the nose-less bastard he had sold his soul to.

She knew she needed to do something, and she decided right then and there that she would do something. She didn’t know what or how just yet and she was well aware it might surprise and upset more than a few people but she knew unreservedly it was the right thing to do.

Throughout the years at Hogwarts no one could ever, even while drunk, say that Hermione and Draco were friends. He had made sure of that from day one when he turned his nose up at basically everyone outside of his train carriage. Their relationship was publicly hostile.

He was arrogant, she was stubborn - they both thought they knew best.  
He was a pureblood, she was Muggle born - they grew up worlds apart.  
He was Slytherin, she a Gryffindor – for better or worse they both lived up to the personality traits of their house.

Fate had determined from the beginning they would stand in opposition rather than together as equals.

Ruminating on their earlier years she recalled how they would argue in class and throw scathing looks at each other across the great hall. There were times where his words and behaviour cut her – like when he called her Mudblood. And there were times when she was so enraged, she retaliated (breaking his nose in 4th year felt really good at the time), but for the most part Hermione tried to not let herself be affected by his taunts.

On face value the only thing that they had in common was their intelligence, standing well ahead of the rest of their peers. It was for this reason - though neither of them would admit it, even to themselves - they secretly loved to antagonise each other, their repartee too intellectual for their classmates to keep up. That said this didn’t stop them from acting like children at times.

Every bit the self-appointed Slytherin Prince he had a habit of stomping through the halls sneering at those he deemed beneath him - like it was as instinctive as breathing. She recalled one time his pompous behaviour was all too much for her. It probably didn’t help that she’d been a bit sleep deprived at the time and couldn’t stop the giggles. Waiting for Professor Snape’s class to start she was watching him swagger towards her from down the hall. ‘Belligerent peacock’ she muttered to herself. Within a moment she was visualising him as one of the albino birds she’d heard roamed the grounds of the Malfoy manor; tail on display splayed out in full fan, beak pointed at the ceiling, swanning down the hall with a Slytherin green cape held behind him held up by Crabb and Goyle. What started as a snigger watching him stride towards her turned in to fits of laughter to the point she was crying as he arrived at the classroom. ‘What’s so bloody funny’ he had snapped at her. Holding her stomach and biting her lip to prevent further laughter she shook her head. ‘Out with it you frizzy haired swot!’ Wiping tears of mirth from her eyes she pushed off the wall, she stood bolt upright chin high in the air, she stuck her hands under her armpits and started flapping her bent elbows, letting out a bird cry as she spun around and swept into the classroom. He stood shocked his expression flicking between being irate, bemused and confused.  
She’d made a mental note to go to bed early that night.

Not much in their interactions changed until mid-way through 5th year. She didn’t really notice it at first but by the time the year was finished she realised their exchanges had become less frequent and Draco had become less snide. The arrogance was there still, it was just more...quiet?

Within 2 weeks of 6th year she knew something was seriously wrong. He was reserved, barely made eye contact and his haughty swagger was gone. He was already lean but and she could tell he had lost weight, over the break, his face was drawn, paler than usual - but the biggest shock was his eyes, now hollow and dead looking. They had never been friends but she couldn’t help but worry. She had tried to bring it up with Ron and Harry one day at lunch and was quickly shut down. When she said she thought something was going on with Malfoy neither of them had noticed any such change nor cared for that matter.

…………

That evening she sat at dinner with the same copy of the Prophet in front of her. Her elbow on the table, palm holding up her head she was lost in thoughts. She absentmindedly pushed her food around her plate and stared at a scratch in the tabletop.

Harry had been sat in silence watching. He could see her thinking and knew she was upset. After ten minutes of watching her sat head in hand, pushing her food around the he knew if he didn’t ask, she wasn’t likely to tell him. “Alright Mione - what’s going on?”

“I just…I think…it’s not right…” she trailed off

“What’s, not right?”

“Malfoy” she said quietly.

“The Ministry and Wizengamot… What they’ve done, what they are doing, trying to do to him…. It’s not right Harry. I know you won’t want to hear this, we’ve got a rough past and I know you don’t like him, but I can see it already – they are going to try and make an example out of him, they want to lock him inside Azkaban for life and throw away the key without a fair trial. He’s done some meanspirited and shitty things in his life - believe me, I know - but he does not deserve this”.

With a deep breath and frustrated huff, she continued. “There is more to this than you understand. I know he did not want this, I know he was forced against his will, I know how terrified he has been every day these last 2 years and at the end of the day what did he actually do beyond opening a bloody cupboard? He didn’t want to hurt anyone, he couldn’t kill Dumbledore – you were there Harry, you heard him he was under threat of death and so was his family!”

To her surprise Harry didn’t react. “Go on” he said. He sat with a slightly raised eyebrow but otherwise neutral expression on his face.

“He was a child, a CHILD Harry and they are trying to prosecute him even though he was being forced to live under the same roof as where Voldemort took up residence, they are attempting to punish him for the crimes that happened within those walls even though he did not commit them. He had nothing to do with it but they are lumping him in with the worst, without care for the facts! He is currently rotting in a cold cell awaiting his bias trial after which I’m sure he will never see the light of day again if the Wizengamot get their way! I watched him Harry, I tried to talk to you about him several times during 6th year but you wouldn’t hear it. I watched him terrified and alone as he disappeared in front of my eyes. He did not want any of this and now it all come to an end he has NO ONE and I can’t just sit back and watch this happen. I couldn’t live with myself. It’s too much. It’s been too much. I can’t do nothing. I can’t watch another life destroyed just for the sake of it. Regardless of our past he deserves a chance at a future.” By now she was crying, silent tears falling from her cheeks onto the table.

**2 months post-battle**

She was sat with Harry across from Ron in the dining room of the Burrow. They had just told him about their plan to speak on behalf of Malfoy at his hearing next week. For the moment the room fell into silence and against her better judgement she was hoping for a rational reaction, however the puce colour or Ron’s face and tick of his left eye were clear indicators or the imminent explosion.

“Brace yourself” Harry muttered reaching to give her hand a squeeze.

Ron’s fist slammed down on the table making both Harry and Hermione flinch. “Have you two bleeding well lost your minds?!” he growled, yelling louder with each word. “Why in Salazar’s name, after everything that’s happened, after everything we have been through, after all we have lost would you both even consider this!!?...” He raged on for a full 3 minutes not holding back the abuse directed at the both of them... “Did Fred mean nothing to you? Did Tonks, Remus, Dumbledore mean nothing to you!? Both of you happy to piss on the memory of the dead and everything we fought for. Clearly the boy who lived, fucking saviour of the world and the golden girl Griffindor princess don’t give a shit about anyone other than death eater scum!”

“THAT’S ENOUGH RON!” Hermione yelled, shaking with rage “How dare you. How fucking dare you imply that! These were our friends, our family too Ron. We lived through this too you twat! We lost, we’re scarred and we’re grieving too! You’re not the only damn person in the room who is angry. You’re not the only damn person who is hurting, who has lost loved ones. You’ve sat here for weeks, god damn weeks treating those you still have, those who love you like shit and I’ve had about enough! EVERYONE is trying to pick up the pieces and find their way forward. You don’t have exclusive rights on feeling lost and you certainly don’t get to use it as an excuse to act like a god damn asshole. Being in pain does not give you agency to treat people like crap Ron, and just because you’re hurting doesn’t mean you should suddenly stop doing what’s right either!”

“What’s right?! How the bleeding hell is testifying FOR a fucking Death Eater the right thing to do Hermione?! Have you forgotten what he’s done to you, to us, over the last 7 years Hermione? The taunting, the threats, your literal torture and the death that’s followed? That bastard does not deserve your sympathy and he sure as hell does not deserve the both of you speaking for his freedom! What about Fred’s freedom hey? What about that!? You’ll defile his life and memory doing this!”

Hermione growled and shook her head “Don’t you dare, don’t you even go there Ron. Malfoy never killed anyone, he was not responsible for my torture and his school-yard bullying as a CHILD should not fate him to life in prison.”

“No, he just attempted murder and he just stood there probably in glee watching you get tortured in his flipping living room! Didn’t exactly jump in to help you did he now.”

She was getting nowhere, Ron was being obtuse and she could feel her blood pressure rising. She needed to stay calm, so taking a deep breath she tried again “Answer me something Ron. Put aside the war, put aside your grief and your loss. Pretend for just a minute that none of that happened. Now tell me why you don’t like Malfoy”

“You can’t be serious - He’s a cretin. He’s stuck up, nasty, unkind and is a judgemental toerag. How long have you got Mione, because I can go all day!”

“Judgemental you say? Why is he judgemental?”

“Have I entered some kind of alternate universe? How is he not judgemental? For as long as we’ve known him he’s belittled us based on assumptions, without knowing anything about us! Within 5 seconds of even meeting us he formed opinions based on god knows what - certainly not fact, he knows nothing about us behind closed doors - and we’ve suffered for it ever since!”

“You’re right Ron. He did do that.”

“Bloody oath I’m right Mione so again I will ask - why you’re even considering this?!”

Leaning back and staring at the ground Hermione lowered her voice “Ron. What would you do to protect your family and those you love? What would you have done to have kept Fred alive?”

“What! What kind of question is that? I would do anything to protect them. God I’d offer myself to bring back Fred! How could you even ask that?”

“Have a think about your answers to my last two questions Ron and then tell me how you’re not judging Malfoy in the exact same way he did you and then tell me how what Malfoy did and what he endured to save his family would have been any different to what you would have done to save yours?”

Hermione could see Ron about to interrupt again but ignoring his attempted interjection kept talking. “You say that speaking for Malfoy goes against everything we fought for, but it sounds to me like you don’t even know what that was. We fought for peace, we fought to move past prejudices, we fought for equality and the end of oppression. We fought for a better, safer world where who we are and what we are born into wasn’t used as a weapon against us. In case it failed your notice Ron, Malfoy was BORN into hatred, he knew no different from the moment he drew breath. He was shaped from that day onwards by his twisted father. He was living in fear and threatened with death - and the death of his mother if he dared to fight back. If you paid any attention at all to him in 6th year you could see it was destroying him. He was a husk, he wore his fear, he didn’t have support like you or I and he’s been alone most of his life. He’s a victim in all this too. If you can’t see that, even in the depths of your grief you’re clearly not the man I thought you were”. With that she quietly got up from the table gave Harry a light squeeze on his shoulder and left the burrow.

Harry rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes with a sigh. “Ron… Mate...She’s right. You know deep down that this is the right thing to do. You also know you’ve been lashing out at everyone since the battle. We’ve all mostly let it slide but I’m not going to keep letting it happen without saying something anymore. You’re not ok - we get that. You’re hurting - we get that too, because like Hermione said, we all are, but you are treating those that love you most like shit and refusing to move forward –”

“Fuck off! Don’t you start too Harry.”

“You yelled earlier that by speaking for Malfoy we were dishonouring the dead. Tell me, do you really think the way YOU are behaving would make Fred proud right now hmm?”

Ron narrowed his eye’s and scoffed “It’s alright for you, you’re the flipping chosen one, what have you got to complain about now? You don’t understand, so don’t you sit there and bloody judge me when both of you have NO IDEA what it feels like to –”

After months of trying to support Ron, of not snapping back at the snide comments, aggressive behaviours and out right disregard for anyone other than himself Harry could no longer keep his cool. Something inside him snapped, he’d finally hit his limit. His anger and hurt roaring to life “YOU IGNORANT, SELF CENTERED, CONCEITED, THOUGHTLESS, SELFISH ASSHAT!”

Ron visibly recoiled. Harry continued. “I’ve got no idea what it feels like? Hermione’s got no idea what it feels like? Are you for fucking for real Ron? You’re the one who has no bloody idea! You’ve lost your brother. At no point have either of us not understood the weight of that, but guess what you entitled twat, you have a family. Who love you. Who are still here. Who you have ALWAYS had. I have NEVER had a family, never felt the love of a mother or father, never had the chance to have siblings, never had the kind of life and support you have had, and carried the weight of being responsible for saving the fucking wizarding world on my shoulders since I was born. I was raised by people who loathed me! Hermione has been treated like a stone is someone’s shoe since the bloody entered this world. Over the years she’s been treated terribly and cried herself to sleep – many nights that was no thanks to you I might add - and any familial support she had is gone – she no longer has a family. Her parents loved her, she knows what that felt like and now it’s all been ripped away. No one to walk her down the aisle, no grandparents for her future childre - ”

“That’s not even remotely the same!” Ron spat.

“No, it’s not the same. I grew up alone with nobody, and Hermione –”

“Fred is DEAD, Harry. Her parents are alive so don’t even try to compare our situations”

Harry stood up so violently his chair scooted backwards “THEY MAY AS WELL BE DEAD YOU PRICK! Try and imagine for a minute how that feels, to know they are breathing but you can never have them in your life again, try living with the weight of the fact that you had to make the hardest choice of your life and that choice, while keeping them alive also meant that are in effect dead to you at the same time! We’ve ORPHANS Ron! Your parents have taken us into their homes and hearts – and we are eternally indebted to them and love them dearly – but we are still fucking Orphans. When you’ve lost your ENTIRE family get back to me. Quit sitting around wallowing in your own bitterness, and treating everyone like crap - because I assure you if you keep this rubbish up YOU WILL wake up one day and find yourself completely alone too.” With that he threw a handful of powder in the floo and disappeared home.

**The Trials: 3 months post-battle**

The Malfoy’s were known for their wealth. For over 300 years they were one of the most affluent families in wizarding society. Wanting for nothing - clothing made from the finest fabrics, holiday homes in the most glamorous of locations, vaults full of gillions and vineyards, businesses and investments too great to count on your hands. A perfect pureblood family envied by the community both in England and abroad.

But oh how the mighty have fallen. A name and blood line that once represented power and prestige now seen as pitiful - dirty even. How ironic. The family once revered now shunned for their part in the evil that tore the wizarding world apart, hundreds of lives destroyed, the blood of many more on their hands.

Three months had passed since Voldemort was defeated. Now, as he stood in the docks awaiting the hearing that would determine his fate Draco felt overwhelmed to the point of numbness. After years of barely being able to breath from living in absolute fear and living under the shadows of pure evil he was broken.

Paler than usual and no longer able to maintain his occlumency shields he hung his head low as he stared at his feet. He could not cope with the world seeing the depression and fear in his eyes His heart was beating erratically in his chest and his hands were clenched into tight fists to stop their shaking. He had never wanted any of this. He had never truly believed his father’s rhetoric. He had never agreed with the death eater’s manifesto. Despite this, the sins of his father had seeped into Draco’s life, into every pore, into his bones…

Everything he had done was to keep his mother safe. The one and only person in his life who truly loved him and he loved in return. None of that mattered now though. It wasn’t an excuse for his actions and he was all but sure he would spend the rest of his life behind the stone walls and iron bars or Azkaban.

Only a miracle would save him now.

**Author's Note:**

> As above, thanks for reading and please let me know what you think and if this is something worth writing
> 
> Hope you are all safe and happy :)


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